Christmas Delivery
by bundysbaby
Summary: The last in a trio of Christmas stories. An AU story about my favorite couple, a pizza, a bicycle, and a Porsche. Written for my lovely editors who put up with so much from me. Merry Christmas, everyone!


Trixie Belden stared into her Coke, swirling her straw and making a whirlpool. Life was just so unfair! Her two best friends looked on, sympathy lighting their much different eyes.

"How about ?" Honey asked. "I seem to read a lot of wedding announcements in _The Times_ that say the happy couple met on ." She put her elbow on the Formica table and cupped her chin in her hand.

"Or OKCupid," Diana added. "You might have to go through a lot of losers before you find a winner, though."

"Easy for both of you to say. You both have boyfriends. Who happen to be my brothers. Besides, those dating services cost a lot of money, money I do not have at the moment."

"We can…" Honey's voice faded at the look in Trixie's extraordinary blue eyes. Her friend wouldn't accept a loan, no matter how much she needed it. She hesitated to think what Trixie would say if she knew her scholarship, given by an anonymous donor, was provided by the wealthy dads of the two women sitting at the table with her.

Not that it was not deserved, oh no. Trixie worked hard in school, was active in the community and a lovely, caring individual. Her family was well-respected in town and Honey and Diana both hoped for her to be their sister-in-law one day.

It just she… she was _athletic_. That girl could run faster, jump higher, swim like a fish, climb trees with the best of them, play a mean game of softball and just about do anything as well as or better than a guy. All of which added up to the fact that most guys didn't care that she was a gorgeous, petite, extremely curvy blonde. They saw her as a pal, another guy.

She was great to play basketball with, or flag football; even a quick game of racquetball. But to _date?_

Nah.

It would be like dating one of the guys.

It didn't help that she wasn't into wearing clothes that emphasized her assets. Baggy jeans and an oversize sweater or old t-shirt from one of her brothers were just fine, thank you. Even here in New York City, going to college, she was the friend and confidante sought out by the opposite sex. She heard more about their girl troubles, providing advice and a sympathetic ear.

Sheesh.

"Belden, you're up!" The Italian-accented, stentorian voice bellowed through the small Italian restaurant. Trixie rolled her eyes and unfurled from the seat.

"Dinner break is over, ladies," she shrugged. She tossed a few dollars on the table. "That should cover my portion. I'll see you guys later."

Honey and Diana watched as Trixie strapped her helmet to her head and made her way through the jostling, loud crowd. Man, this sucked. Really sucked.

"You know, Vito, you don't have to yell," Trixie rebuked the man waiting behind the counter. She went through the lift at one end to the ovens where the pizzas were waiting, all nice and hot in the bright red portable oven box.

"I gotta yell. I'm Italian. We _all_ yell." Vito smiled at her, not perturbed in the slightest. He handed her the slips. "A couple of deliveries, all prepaid." Truth to tell, he _did_ worry about her. He tried to ensure she made the deliveries where she wouldn't be carrying a lot of cash on her. Hey, Manhattan was nowhere near the hotbed of crime it was in the 70s, however, it was still dangerous out there at times.

Trixie rolled her eyes. "Thanks, boss. Be back in a jiff." She carried the boxes out into the alley, strapped them to the back of her bicycle, and took off through the teeming Manhattan streets. Honey and Diana watched her whiz by, and they sighed simultaneously.

"Do you think she knows how much that bike really costs?" Honey arched a well-plucked brow at the beautiful girl on the other side of the booth.

"Nope. She hasn't a clue. I had Daddy take it to a bike repair shop where they painted over the name. It's safer for her, too. I'm just glad Daddy has some generous clients."

"Trix probably has no clue the bike is a Cervélo and the frame itself is worth about ten thousand dollars," Honey laughed.

"Yeah, I just told her it was hanging around in the garage at home and my brothers and sisters wouldn't be seen on anything so uncool."

"Still, I worry about her delivering pizza by herself," Honey frowned.

"You can't talk to her. It's lucky she agreed to stay in your parents' apartment with us. Trix is so independent. I wish she'd meet someone worthy of her." The two women both gazed out of the plate glass window, wondering if there really were such things as miracles.

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Trixie was sailing along the streets of Manhattan, dodging in and out of traffic, enjoying the autumn day. Not too chilly yet, but not sticky with humidity, either. It was just right. She called out a few greetings to a couple of the other delivery persons and messengers she knew, but her main intent was to get her cargo to its recipients, hot and delicious.

The first one went to a regular customer, a harried mom who met her on the stoop. "Thanks, Trixie. When in doubt, pizza!" The woman slipped a few dollars to the lovely girl on the lightning fast bike. _If only I had as much energy_.

The next two pies went to an older couple in a third-floor rent-controlled walkup. Trixie chained her bike to the railing and they buzzed her in. "Hi, Mr. Zeiss. Here ya go." Man, what she wouldn't give to live in the lovely old apartment, with its high ceilings, crown molding, and large rooms.

She was speeding back to the restaurant, wondering where her travels would take her next. It was so refreshing to meet all kinds of people. Some were super nice; others didn't see beyond the fact she was delivering their meal.

Trixie was waiting at a red light, impatient for the green. Within a nanosecond of the go-light, she was pedaling away… right into the side of the car that made a right hand turn in front of her. Luckily, she wasn't going fast, but the impact still jarred her and she ended up in a heap on the ground.

For a moment, she was dazed, and then the anger began to simmer. She heard the slamming of a car door, and two large feet were planted in front of her. "Just what the hell do you think you were doing, kid? You dented my car!" An irritated voice was her over her and she looked up. And up and up. Long, long legs, clad in what she recognized as pretty expensive jeans.

Trixie scrambled to her feet, annoyed as hell. "You freaking dented my car, kid." A large hand was placed on her arm and her training kicked in.

James Winthrop Frayne II (of _those_ Fraynes) found himself on his ass, right there on the filthy New York street. It was his turn to look up, but not as far as she did. "Don't you put your hands on me," said a decidedly husky, very feminine voice. He was treated to the lovely sight of a round, female bottom as she bent over her bicycle.

He sat there, bemused, as the errant bicyclist checked her vehicle for damage. "You should just be happy that my bike isn't damaged. Or me," she snorted as she turned to face him. It was right at that point that snapping sapphire blue eyes met burning emerald green ones.

In an instant, an electric current flashed between them, but it was gone as fast as it came. "I damaged your crappy bike? You damaged my _Porsche!"_ The man stood, brushing the dirt from his backside. He was tall and handsome, with red hair and the dreamiest eyes.

The petite girl leaned her bike against her legs and pulled off her helmet, releasing torrents of wild yellow curls. "Listen, Mister. I don't know where you learned to drive, or whether you got your license at Sears, but you turned into _my_ lane. Next time, look into the bike lane before you decide you freaking own the road." Her eyes were flashing and her cheeks were colored with a slight rose flush. She didn't have one ounce of makeup on and Jim thought she was just about the most gorgeous thing he had ever seen.

But still, she dented his _Porsche_.

"You didn't look to see my turn signal," he argued, his deep voice catching the interest of some passers-by.

She didn't answer, just rolled those enormous blue jewels she called eyes and stuffed her helmet back on her head. "I am not going to stand here and listen to some rich snob complain about his car. Be more careful in the future, you jerk." She jumped on her bike and was off before he could react. As she pedaled away, she tossed back a snarky, "And take some driving lessons. Goofy has a great tutorial. You should watch it."

There was a titter of laughter from people watching this little scene and that fired up his temper. He rubbed a long finger over the slight dent and jumped in his car. His first thought was to follow the woman to her job, but he was already late.

Instead, he peeled some serious rubber.

Trixie spent the rest of her shift thinking of all the snarky things she might have said to that red-headed ass. Right after she peeled off all those expensive clothes and jumped his bones. He really was yummy, but way out of her league. A Porsche, designer sneakers, expensive, trendy clothes.

Not for a girl who had to deliver pizzas to make ends meet, even though she had a scholarship to John Jay. She knew Honey and Di would do just about anything for her, and so would her parents. Trixie didn't want to add to anyone's burden. She didn't want to take advantage of her rich friends, nor did she want to encumber her parents with additional expenses.

Brian and Mart were both in college on partial scholarships. Even though they both worked, it only covered their books and everyday expenses. Tuition was dear. Her parents covered the rest, plus they had the added expense of her younger brother, Bobby. He played several sports, was on the traveling teams and went to various camps during the year.

Ah, well. She pedaled home in the soft dusk, her pocket full of some tip money that would be put to good use.

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Jim navigated his baby into the narrow driveway of one the last private houses in Manhattan. Townhouses and projects and skyscrapers made up the bulk of the island, but there were a few enclaves of private homes. They belonged to the wealthy, and they were coveted by real-estate developers.

It was a large house, a mansion, some might say. But to him, it was just his family's place in the City. They also had a lovely farm in near Rochester, New York, where he spent most of his childhood. His great-uncle, for whom he was named, owned a Victorian mansion in a tiny village in Westchester County called Sleepyside.

He was still thinking about that blonde as he got out of the car and walked around to the passenger side. The dent was barely noticeable, but _he_ noticed. He rubbed it with his finger again and grinned. Blondie was a spitfire, with her springy gold curls and glittering blue eyes. Then there was that ravishing bottom, at which he was privileged to garner a long, appreciative look.

He tossed his keys from hand to hand and entered through the back door, popping up to his room to freshen up before joining his mother, father, and cousin but really, adopted sister, Juliana, for a family dinner.

"You're late, Jim," his mother observed. Her son was rarely late. "Is everything all right?"

"Yes, Mama. Well, I did have a run-in with a pizza delivery person. Crashed right into the side of my car. Made a slight dent."

"Well, I hope you got his name and that of the restaurant he works for." Win Frayne bristled. The nerve of some people!

"Not a _he_ , but a _she_. She must have come up to here on me." He leveled his hand a little above his heart. She ripped me a new one." Jim's eyes sparkled at the memory. "I grabbed her arm, thinking she was a kid, and before you know it, I was on my as… rear end in the middle of the street."

"Seriously, James?" Juliana went off into peals of laughter. "I'd love to have seen that!"

"Yeah, well, I'm sure one of the crowd on the sidewalk snapped a few photos and it'll end up on Instagram or Facebook. Or worse yet, _Perez Hilton_."

"Still, Jim, you should have gotten her information," Katje Frayne chided. "Even a small dent on a luxury car is pricey to fix."

"Well, you see, Mama, it _was_ actually my fault. I made a right turn right in front of her. Lucky there was a stoplight and she wasn't going very fast." _I wasn't going to let Blondie have the satisfaction of knowing that fact, though._

"Oh, snap! Mr. Perfectly Perfect admits to a driving error. I think I'll go play the lottery." Juliana giggled and winked at the man she considered her older brother. After her parents died, she came to live here, broken and alone. Jim was the perfect antidote, cajoling her out of the doldrums and making her laugh.

"Watch it, Jules." Jim crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue at her. "Ms. Not-so-Perfectly-Perfect had _how_ many fender benders this past year?"

Ah, family dinners. The bickering, all in fun, never ends. Late that night, the appealing picture of the feisty blonde popped into Jim's head just before sleep claimed him. His father was right. He should have gotten her name and number.

But not for the reasons _they_ thought.

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"Hey, Trix, can I place an order with you for delivery?" Daniel Mangan smirked at his petite, blonde friend. She really was pretty, but he had an altogether different blonde in his crosshairs. Besides, she was more like his sister.

"There _is_ such a thing as a phone and calling in your order. Bella Luna does have that advanced technology, you know. And fax and online ordering," she sniffed.

"Yeah, but I figure they'll give me extra special care if _you_ place the order."

Trixie giggled and punched Dan in the arm. Hard. "More than likely Vito will slip a little laxative in there."

"Nah. You're his favorite. Get me six large pies, three with pepperoni, two plain, and one with the works."

"Gleeps, I knew you and my brother Mart had big appetites, but _six_ pies? I think even that would tax those hollow legs of yours."

"Very cute, smarty-pants. No, not for Mart and me. I'm going to a get-together tonight and I want to impress my girl. It'll be her, her brother and a date, and a few mutual friends from school. I promised to bring the main course, and they're responsible for the drinks, dessert, and salad."

Trixie's face softened. Dan was picking at his cuticles, and that meant he was nervous. This girl just wasn't one of his flavors-of-the-month. "Is she worthy of you, Mr. Mangan?"

He flashed her a quick grin, then sobered. "I think the question should be, am I worthy of her. She comes from money, serious money. In fact, you need to deliver to the Vanderheiden House, crosstown." Yeah, Juliana lived in the huge, gorgeous house that was on the Landmarks Preservation List, was an heiress to the Vanderheiden fortune, and Dan wondered what she saw in an ex-gang member with a serious Brooklyn accent.

"Bella Luna doesn't usually deliver there, Dan." Trixie was dubious. "It's quite a bike ride."

"Yeah, but you're like quicksilver on that thing," Dan cajoled. "Pretty please, Trix?" He blinked his chocolate eyes at her and pouted. Just a little bit.

"Ack! No! No puppy dog eyes. Okay, what time do you need them there?" Trixie was already planning the route out in her head.

"Six-thirty, sevenish. Give me a call before you get there, I'll meet you out front." Dan pulled out his wallet and handed her several bills. "That should cover it and you keep the rest."

"You'll get your change, Daniel," Trixie said stiffly.

"Look, Freckles, it's not charity. You have to deliver a long way from your usual area. It's the same tip I'd give any delivery person going out of their way for me." _God, she really was exasperating at times._

"Look, Trixie, take a cab," Vito was arguing with his best delivery person. "I can afford it. That's a long ride for you."

"It's not that bad, Vito. I have the route all planned out. Besides, you know how I love New York City at night." She was donning her reflective vest as Vito loaded the steaming pies into the portable oven. "I plan on going right home from there."

The paternal Italian blew out a breath. "Are you sure you don't have any Italian in you? You're _gabba dost!_ I've seen your brother."

"I am stubborn, Vito, and Brian is no more Italian than I am, even if he is a dark as you." Vito attached the oven to Trixie's bike.

"Call me when you get home, little girl."

Trixie rolled her eyes. "I will, Papa Vito." She hopped on and gave him a jaunty salute. "Ciao!"

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Jim Frayne loved his little sister, but damn, he was bored. Juliana wanted to introduce him to the guy with whom she was currently besotted. She thought it might be less intimidating at a get-together with friends, rather than bringing him home for her daunting brother to vet.

Sally Wellington was nice and all that, but she obviously was gunning for more in a relationship than Jim was willing to give. Or _wanted_ to give. Sally was all about society and charity balls and manicures and designer purses. Not necessarily a bad thing, but…

All that stuff bored him to tears. He was basically a farm boy, used to the great outdoors. New York City was wonderfully exciting, however… he missed horseback riding. He missed the forest. He missed the land, which is why he was majoring in Environmental Science and Law. He figured he'd move up to that little town where his elderly great-uncle resided. Near enough to the City, but far enough so he could breathe.

Dan's phone chirped with a message. "Pizza's almost here. You're all going to love it. I know New York pizza, and Bella Luna is the best of the best. I told the delivery I would meet them out front."

"Let me get it, Dan," Jim offered, as much to get away from Sally's clinging hand as it was to get a breath of air. Fresh, maybe not, but air.

"Sure, Jim. It's already taken care of, down to the tip." Dan grinned at the redhead. _This was good. It wouldn't give Trixie a chance to hand back the tip money and end up in an argument with me_.

Jim smiled at Sally. "Be right back," and she sighed as she watched his tight bum exit the room. Juliana noticed and rolled her eyes.

Jim waited on the front steps, the quite lovely, granite front steps, looking down the Avenue for a speeding delivery van or car. Instead, he was startled by a familiar husky voice coming from the opposite side of him. "Dan, I have your pizzas. Delicious and hot."

"Not Dan." Trixie's head whipped around at the sexy, deep voice of her nemesis. The Porsche owner! It had been several weeks since their accident, and she thought about him at the oddest times.

Trixie's heart started hammering in her chest. _Gleeps. He lives here. Oh, God_. "I'm looking for Dan Mangan." She craned her neck around the man's fine form as if he might have Dan's body stashed on the porch somewhere.

"Dan's inside with my sister and a few friends. I offered to come out and get the pizzas. Run into any cars lately?" He couldn't help it. He wished she'd take off her helmet so he could see those gold spirals, and maybe tug on one. Just as an experiment, of course, to see if it sprung back to its original location.

"Not every driver in the City ignores the bike lanes, as some people standing in front of me do." Jim was surprised into a laugh. She certainly had spirit!

"I'm Jim Frayne. What do you say we start all over? Dan says this is the best pizza in the City."

Trixie was opening the portable oven. "Trixie. Bella Luna _does_ have the best pizza. Best everything. Even for _stunads_ like you. Hold out your arms."

"I'm not stupid," he informed her. At her look of disbelief, he laughed again. "If you live in the City long enough, you pick up on all the juicy insults. Besides, I did apologize. Sort of."

Her intensely blue eyes locked onto his as she giggled. The noisy street, the big city, the world melted away as an electrical connection passed between them. Right up until the time Sally opened the front door. "Jim, darling, are the pizzas here yet? Everyone is starving."

 _Damn it._ He turned his head, arms full of hot, delicious-smelling pies. "Be right there, Sally. Hold the door for me." He turned to say something to Trixie, but she vanished into the night.

But he had her name. Trixie. And he knew where she worked.

It was a start.

Sally held the door open as he requested, taking the liberty to give his tight ass a nice squeeze. It startled Jim into nearly dropping the pies, and he realized two things. One, he needed to step away from Door Number One. And two, he wouldn't have minded at all if that was Trixie's hand on his behind.

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"You're home late," Honey remarked to the flushed Trixie as she wheeled her bike into the apartment. "I was starting to get worried. Diana's out with Mart and I was just about to call her."

Trixie grimaced. "Oh, gleeps, no! Mart and Brian would have me on television and missing posters up twenty seconds after you made the call. _My_ face would be on _your_ milk carton."

Honey giggled and put down the text she wasn't quite studying. "So, how come you're late?"

"I had a delivery at the Vanderheiden House. Six pies."

"That's not quite in Bella Luna's usual area, is it? I don't know, Trix…"

Trixie sat next to her sweet-natured, gorgeous best friend. "It was at the request of Dan, and Vito gave me no end of grief."

Honey was surprised at that. Not the Vito part, but Dan's request. "Why would Dan ask you to bike all the way there?"

"What do you think?" Trixie said wryly. "He wanted to impress a girl."

"Juliana? She's going out with Dan? Wow. It really is a small world."

"I'm not sure, I guess so. You know the people who live there?" Trixie began picking at some loose threads on her shirt.

"A little. The family that owns it is the Fraynes. Winthrop and Katje. She is the Vanderheiden. They have a son, Jim, and they adopted Juliana when her parents died in an accident. She took their name so she goes by Juliana Maarsden Frayne. I met them once or twice at some of those charity functions my mother is so fond of. Serious, serious money there."

"Jim was the jerk in the Porsche. He was waiting for the pies when I delivered."

"Seriously? He's usually a pretty down to earth guy."

"He did acknowledge, in a roundabout way, he was wrong. He made me laugh."

Honey looked up sharply at the wistful note in Trixie's voice. She probably was completely unaware of it. It wouldn't do, however, for her to develop a crush on Jim Frayne. "He has every eligible debutante running after him," she said carefully. "Lots of money there and not too bad to look at, if you like redheads."

"Oh, his girlfriend came right out to see what was keeping him," Trixie sniffed. Tall, blonde, pretty and wearing designer clothes. Trixie glanced down at her worn, rather baggy leggings, combat boots and not-so-flattering safety vest.

No comparison to Ms. Prissily Perfect. Trixie closed her eyes and leaned back on the sofa. For all she knew, the woman was kind and nice and adopted shelter pets. However, she did make Trixie realize one thing.

Maybe, just maybe, it was time to get some new clothes. Of course, they couldn't be designer duds, but at age twenty-one and getting ready to take the LSATs… it might be time to update.

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Jim took the first opportunity to corner Dan, out of the earshot of both his sister and Sally. "You were right," he grinned. "They are the best pizzas in the City."

Dan chuckled. "Told ya. Bella Luna is a hidden treasure."

"I was surprised to see delivery by bike," Jim began.

"That's my friend, Trixie, from back home. She's one heck of a bike rider. The owner was looking for someone with mad skills; he wanted to reduce the restaurant's carbon footprint. Plus, Manhattan is gridlock city, all day every day. Trix is super. His best delivery person."

"I met your Trixie before," Jim shared. "She dented my car."

"Oh, she's not _my_ Trixie. And you're the rich asshole?" Dan looked sheepish. "That's what she said."

"No offense taken, and yeah, I was a jerk."

"Trix was pretty steamed. She's a bit worried about the LSATs, and it makes her snarkier than normal."

"She wants to be a lawyer?"

"Not just a lawyer. She's aiming big. She wants to be a prosecutor. She and her best friend Honey were constantly getting all of us involved in mysteries when we were younger."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah." Dan's eyes took on a faraway softness. "She's a pistol. I don't doubt she'll be a Supreme Court Justice one day. I always envision her at ninety, charging ahead on a horse like Mr. Wheeler's big black gelding Jupiter with a flaming sword of justice."

Jim's ears perked up. "Matt Wheeler? Daughter Honey?"

"Yeah, Trixie's best friend. They'll probably go into practice together, or prosecute together. Two completely different women, to be sure."

"How so?" _Man, this is great. I don't even have to encourage Dan to talk._

"Honey is tall and willowy. She can be a fashion plate at times. Trix rarely wears anything more than dime-store lipstick, mascara and any old thing she has hanging around. She's petite and has some killer curves, even though she plays then down. Athletic and competitive. Turns the guys on and then turns them right off."

Sally came over, sitting close to Jim. "What are you two whispering about?"

"The price of tea in China," Dan responded. He picked up right away that Jim was uncomfortable with Sally's presumption of a romantic, long-term relationship between the couple. He talked about it later, after the others left, with Juliana.

"If your brother doesn't want to get more tangled up with Sally, he needs to start bowing out now."

Jules' brows knit. "What makes you say that?" She knew Jim wasn't serious about the girl. He wasn't serious about _anyone._

"She has tells. Always touching him. Clutching at him. Calling him Jimmy, and he hates that."

Juliana was taken aback at Dan's appraisal of her brother. It was spot on. She tilted her head, her blonde hair falling in a fluid wave. "You're very observant."

"Gotta be if I want to be a psychologist. Your brother may drive a Porsche, but I think he'd be equally happy in a Jeep, maybe even more so. He feels confined in the City and he feels confined by Sally."

She tucked herself into his side. "Hey, how did you know Jim drives a Porsche?"

"Remember I told you about my crazy friend, Trixie? A couple of weeks ago some idiot in a Porsche turned in front of her and she ran into the car. Your brother was the idiot and Trixie delivered the pizzas tonight. I bet it was very interesting outside."

Jules considered this. "Yeah. I bet it was."

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"We got another call for pizzas at that mansion crosstown," Vito told Trixie as soon as she walked in the door a couple of weeks later. "You wanna do it? I can send one of the boys in a taxi." He looked appreciatively at his favorite employee. For the past week or so, she'd given up on the baggy shirts and ill-fitting leggings. She looked more like what she was… a beautiful girl with a great figure. Her tips increased, too.

"When do they want the pies?" Trixie fiddled a little with the tighter black t-shirt with a large moon on the front and _Bella Luna Pizzeria_ in script on the back.

"End of your shift. Dan going to be there again?"

"He didn't say anything to me. I think the Terrible Trio are triple-dating tonight. Brian and Honey, Di and Mart, and Dan and his girlfriend Juliana."

"And why aren't you going with them?"

"No date, and I hate being the third wheel. Or, in this case, the seventh wheel." Trixie flushed a delightful rose.

Vito placed an arm around her, his usually stentorian tones dialed down to a soft bass. "The men in New York City are stunads, Trixie. If I was thirty years younger…"

"You'd still be married to Stella and have a baby on the way," Trixie joked back. "I'm used to it, Papa Vito. Someday, I'll meet a guy just right. Not one of these metrosexuals only worried about their manicure or the next hot thing. Somebody real, who doesn't mind getting his hands dirty. Now, let's get the pizzas loaded up before they get cold."

Trixie was slightly chilled by the time she sent the text message to the phone number Vito provided. It was the middle of October, and the nights were getting colder. As usual, the days were still warm, which made dressing appropriately a challenge.

The tall man leaning on the railing watched the flashes of light from passing cars and the streetlights. It was amazing how much he wanted to see Trixie again. Jim looked up the address of Bella Luna, but since she was a delivery person and not a waitress, there was no sense in hanging around.

Geez, what was he? Fifteen again?

He hooked his thumbs in his pockets, thinking about the drama with Sally. He wasn't going to let her think that a few casual dates would lead to a trip down the aisle. When he dropped her off at her apartment a couple of weeks ago, she coyly invited him up.

"I don't think so, Sally." He did not add _not tonight_ or _maybe tomorrow_.

She pouted a little. "Big day tomorrow? You can come up for a nightcap. Just a few minutes." Sally was positive she could entice him into staying the night.

"No, I can't, really. Thanks for the offer, though."

Sally waited for a beat, but Jim did not follow up with an invitation to another date. "When do you want to get together again?" She never chased after anyone, but he was the exception to the rule.

Jim inhaled deeply, dreading the next few minutes. "Sally, I'm not looking for a long-term relationship right now, and I know you are," he began. He watched as her eyes filled with tears and felt like a complete cad.

"No, I'm not," she protested. _Yes, I am. With you_.

"Well, then we're in agreement. I have… a lot on my plate right now. I'm sure I'll see you in town."

"Jim, I know you're busy with school and all. I'm… I'm willing to wait." Her voice quivered.

"Sally, there would be nothing to wait for. I have some plans for my future that don't include living the rest of my life in New York City. You wouldn't be happy stuck in the sticks somewhere."

"I could try." God, she was pathetic. Deep inside, she knew what Jim was telling her was correct. It still hurt, though, for a girl who always received exactly what she wanted.

"Trying wouldn't be enough for me," Jim responded, honest to a fault.

Sally realized that he would not change his mind. "Thanks for the pizza and conversation. See you around." Now if she could only hold off sobbing until she was in her room…

Jim sighed again, feeling a bit morose until he spied the flash of a reflective vest. His heart leaped in response to the small figure flying towards him.

Trixie halted as Jim stepped out of the shadows. _Gleeps, he is gorgeous_. "Hi, Mr. Frayne. You ordered a couple of pizzas?"

"Jim." He didn't want to stare. He couldn't help himself. It wasn't the gentlemanly thing to do. She was dressed the same, but there was a subtle difference. Things fit her better, made his mouth go dry with pure, unadulterated male lust. "Uh, thanks for making the trip all the way here."

"No problem. I love to bike. Although it is getting a little chilly at night, now."

"How long will you be delivering?"

"I'll be out in the snow as long as it's not up to here," she laughed, indicating the top of one slender hip.

She was unstrapping the portable oven, chattering away and he was charmed. "Vito told me you charged the pizzas and a very generous tip. Thank you. I hope you enjoy them." The warmth of the oven and hot pizza and the cold night caused her to shiver.

"You're cold. Why don't you let me give you a ride back?" _Or let me warm you right up. I have the perfect way to do it_.

Trixie smiled up at him, the first genuine, solely focused on him smile, the lucky recipient. Jim's heart began to thunder in his chest and there wasn't enough air in New York City to fill his lungs. "Oh, gleeps, no! I'm going home and besides, my bike would never fit in your car. And you have these delicious pizzas to devour."

"I'll tell you a secret." Jim leaned over and whispered. "I like cold pizza better than hot, and we do have more than one car." He caught a whiff of her, of Trixie, and his libido took a very large leap. She smelled clean, fresh and like a secret, sexy glade in the forest.

Trixie was mesmerized by those emerald green eyes, and what was telegraphing itself without words. Everything that was woman in her soared to everything that was man in him. It was chemistry, the elemental attraction of male to female. She cleared her throat. "Uh, I couldn't put you out like that, Jim."

"Nonsense. I insist. Just let me put these pies inside and get the car. Promise me you won't just ride away."

"Okay. I promise." Why did she feel so darn breathless?

True to her word, she waited in the front of the house for just a few minutes before Jim came out of the gated driveway in a big, black, late model SUV with a bicycle rack on the back. He took her bike from her nerveless fingers and expertly attached it, and held open the passenger door.

"Somehow, I did not expect this," Trixie fluttered her hand, indicating the vehicle after she supplied her address. "Nor did I expect a bike rack and you knowing how to use it."

"I'm not just a stunad in a Porsche. I'm originally from upstate New York, my family's farm. It's just easier to get around the City in the smaller car. Are you cold? Do you want me to turn the heater up?"

"No, I'm fine, thanks." They hadn't gone a block and were already stuck in traffic. Trixie unstrapped her helmet and placed it on her lap as her shiny curls cascaded past her shoulders.

Jim was transfixed by the sight until the loud blast of a horn brought his attention back to the barely moving cars ahead of him. He concentrated on the traffic inching up the avenue. "Dan was correct about Bella Luna having the best pizza in town." _Good Lord, how lame could he get?_

"They really do. Vito was thrilled when you called in a reorder. I think he is getting delusions of grandeur," Trixie laughed.

"He should, with pizza like that!" Jim paused, unsure of where to go next. "Uh, Dan told me you both come from a town upstate. Anywhere I would know?"

"I think you should," Trixie said dryly. "Sleepyside. I live next door to Ten Acres. Old Mr. Frayne isn't there very often, but I presume he's a relative. It's an unusual surname."

"You live in that charming white farmhouse? I've only been in Sleepyside one or two times, but I remember it. Uncle James spends most of his time with Aunt Nell in Arizona."

"Yes, I know. We keep an eye on the place for him." The heat in the SUV and Trixie's long day were making her drowsy. "Dan talks a lot."

"Nice guy, though. Jules… Juliana, my sister, likes him a lot."

"He likes her, too. He's a good guy." She tried to stifle a yawn. "He said he had a good time. Your girlfriend is pretty."

"My girlfriend? Oh, Sally. She's not my girlfriend." He wanted to make that perfectly clear to her.

"She thinks so," Trixie giggled.

"She doesn't any longer."

Traffic started to ease up, and before long Jim was pulling up in front of the building where Trixie said she lived. There was a doorman out front and he wondered how she could afford the rent.

She seemed to read his mind. "I live here with my two best friends from back home. Honey's parents own the building, and they have a big apartment they are letting us use while we're in college."

"Honey Wheeler? I've met her a couple of times."

"Yes, and Diana Lynch. They're the best."

Sergio opened the door for Trixie as Jim hopped out to remove her bike from the rack. "Hi, Miss Trixie, it's getting chilly out."

"It really is! Would you like me to bring you a thermos of hot chocolate?"

"That would be wonderful if you have the time." The three girls in the Wheeler apartment were particular favorites of his, and there was nothing like Miss Trixie's hot chocolate.

Trixie scooted to the back of the SUV, where Jim was settling her bicycle on the street. He heard the exchange, and it only increased his interest in her. There weren't many people – male or female- that he knew who would be concerned about whether or not their doorman was cold.

Trixie peeped up at him. "Thanks for the ride, Jim."

"My pleasure." It truly was, too. When she went to wheel the bike into the building, he curled his fingers around the shiny handlebar. "When can I see you again?"

"Anytime you order a pizza!" she quipped, misunderstanding.

"No." He couldn't help himself. His other hand went to one of those long curls, twining it around his index finger. It was silky soft, just as he imagined. He gave a slight tug, and when he released it. It curled right back to its original position. "When can I see _you?_ "

She stared into warm, emerald green eyes. "You mean like a date or something?"

"Exactly like a date. Or something."

 _Oh,_ _gleeps! How did he do that? Make it sound like… like unbridled, liquid, golden, sex?_ She opened her mouth, but nothing would come out.

"How about Saturday night? We could go to dinner, a movie." _I could rent a suite at the St. Regis and we could spend the rest of the weekend naked_.

"Uh… I can't. I promised Regan I would come home and exercise Jupe and Lady. Horses."

"You have a stable?" _And who's Regan?_

"Oh, gleeps, no. Regan is the groom at Manor House – Honey's parents' house. _They_ have the stable. When we lived home, we could exercise the horses every day, but now that we're all away at college, it's more difficult. Regan had a bad bout of bronchitis and he asked if we could come home to help. Honey and Di both have major papers due, so I'm going up."

"I could come up with you." The offer just fell out of his mouth.

"You know how to ride?"

"I grew up on a farm, remember? I'd love to go horseback riding with you." He had to suppress the vision of her riding like Lady Godiva. Just for him.

"It means you'll have to get up at the butt-crack of dawn to catch the train and then meet my folks and younger brother. We're having lunch," she warned. "And we don't wear fancy riding clothes or anything."

"Farm boy. How about if we drive up there? I can take the SUV since you seem to have an aversion to Porsches."

"Seriously? Okay, Jim. Can you pick me up at sixish?"

Jim looked into her beautiful face and inwardly winced. "I can do that." He grabbed his cell phone. "Type in your number and I'll text you mine later."

She did as he asked, and handed it back to him. Their fingers touched and there it was again. That sizzle between them, that spark that threatened to ignite into something uncontrollable.

Their eyes met, jewel to jewel. Her eyes dropped to his mouth and his did the same. The world faded away as he moved towards to those luscious lips…

"Excuse me, sir, but we have some cabs waiting to discharge passengers." Sergio's voice broke the spell. The tall redhead stared at the doorman as if he didn't understand English.

 _Oh, those two have it bad._ "You need to move your car," he clarified.

"Uh, yeah. Sorry." Jim shook his head as if to clear it. "I'll, uh, call you, Trixie."

"Okay." Her voice was husky. "Good night."

Jim slid back into the driver's seat, watching as Sergio held the door open for her. He slapped his hands on the steering wheel in frustration. Just a little more time and he would have tasted those lips. It was his new goal in life.

He drove away, never wanting anything or anyone as much as he wanted Ms. Trixie Belden.

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 _He almost kissed me! It's not my imagination_ , Trixie told herself. _He_ wanted _to kiss me. I know it_. She floated into the apartment, stowed the bike in the utility room, and went to her bedroom. Instead of cracking the books, she stared out the window at the sparkling lights.

Right up until the time her cell phone rang. Hoping it was Jim, she was crestfallen to hear Vito's accusing tone. "You didn't call me, little girl, when you got home."

"I forgot, Papa Vito. I'm sorry, everything went okay." Trixie rolled her eyes. What was it with overprotective males in her life?

"Don't forget again, capish? You're giving me agita."

"I won't."

"I'm gonna give you some ganol to take home for your parents," Vito announced. "Let them know what a gabba dost daughter they have."

"They love your cannoli, thank you. See you tomorrow."

Trixie couldn't wait for Saturday. She remembered her promise to Sergio and floated back into the kitchen to make the hot chocolate.

Life was suddenly looking great.

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Jules was surprised to see her brother stumble into the kitchen at the ungodly (for him) hour of five-thirty AM, Saturday morning. She watched him as he made a cup of strong, black coffee in the Keurig and yawned a couple of times, scratching his butt for good measure.

"You're up early, Jim."

"Uh-huh."

She waited for an explanation that was not forthcoming. "Where you off to?" Juliana was working for a temp agency and had an early morning job replacing a sick receptionist at a gym.

"Got a date."

Now, this garnered her attention. "A date? With who?" None of the women that Jim went out with would be caught dead up at this hour unless they were just coming home from a night out on the town.

Two spots of dull red highlighted his cheekbones. He did not want to talk about this with Jules. In fact, he did not want to talk about it with anyone. It was too new. Too important. She'd find out anyway.

"It's Trixie."

"Trix… Dan's Trixie?" Jules' eyes widened. She wasn't sure she liked this. She liked Dan, was well on the way to falling in love with him. If Jim hurt Trixie, well, Dan might not be too happy. And that might reflect on their relationship.

"Uh-huh." Jim paused. "She's _not_ Dan's Trixie."

Jules' mouth bowed into a surprised O. She didn't even have time to respond before he was out the back door. Jim, her brother, _jealous?_

 _Oh. My. God._ Well, she'd need to have a little talk with Dan. And she _definitely_ needed to meet this Trixie.

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Jim pulled up in front of the apartment building, prepared to wait, when Trixie came bounding out of the lobby, loaded down with a couple of small boxes. The doorman-on-duty grabbed the boxes and set them down in the back while Trixie settled herself in the passenger seat.

"Good morning, Jim! It's a great day for a ride, isn't it?" Her eyes were sparkling and she had an infectious grin on her face. Her messy curls made his fingers itch and, what the heck, he tugged on the same one.

"It's wonderful." It wasn't so much the autumn day as it was the company. His mouth went dry as he took stock of her in her black yoga pants, heavy sweater, and leather boots up to her knee.

"I have some ganol… cannoli… from Vito for my parents. Did you eat? I have a thermos of black coffee and a few breakfast burritos I made," she asked, a shy note in her voice.

"I had some coffee at home, but I can certainly use more. A breakfast burrito sounds heavenly."

Trixie busied herself pouring out some coffee for him in a go-cup, and unwrapping the still-hot burrito. "I have more burritos, so don't feel as if you have to be polite." She had a cup of hot chocolate for herself and bit into another one of the delicious burritos.

"The burrito and coffee are really good, Trixie," Jim complimented her.

"Can't go wrong with a burrito and a Keurig! I wasn't sure how you took your coffee."

Jim, to his surprise, finished off several of the burritos. They talked and talked on the way to Sleepyside. He found out about her penchant for mysteries, the fact she had three brothers and was hoping to get a scholarship to Columbia Law School.

She discovered he really _was_ a farm boy from upstate; he was concerned enough about the environment to have a dual major of Environmental Science and Law, and he had a little more than a year left to graduate law school and pass the bar.

"We'll stop at my parents' house first, and we can leave the car there and walk up to the stables. Besides, I want to get a couple of apples. One for Jupiter and one for you to give Lady."

"Lady. Sounds tame."

"She is a gentle horse, Jim. I hope you won't be disappointed. Jupiter is… Jupe is a rescue. He was owned by this horrible man upstate and abused. The guy had a truck farm that was a cover for criminal activities, including dogfighting. Jupe doesn't like men very much, even Regan."

"That's so sad."

"Mr. Wheeler bought him for himself, and Jupiter does allow him to ride occasionally. He has to be in the right mood," Trixie giggled.

"Mr. Wheeler or Jupiter?"

"Jupiter, silly!"

Jim had a wonderful day. Trixie's parents, Helen and Peter Belden, were charming and remarked they met him and his parents once over at Ten Acres. When the kids left for the stables, Helen and Peter shared a sigh.

"He's interested in her, Helen."

"I can tell, Peter. He seems nice, polite."

"I just hope she doesn't have her heart broken," Peter said darkly. "They're wealthy and we're… we're comfortable."

"If she does, it's just part of growing up, honey. We'll be there for her." She didn't add that she thought that was not likely. There was just something about the two of them together as if it was preordained.

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Regan was waiting for them in the stable. "Well, Miss Fidget finally deigns to make an appearance," he snorted.

"And what are you doing out of bed, Regan? I thought you were at death's door." They both grinned and Trixie leaped into his arms.

"Good to see you, Trix, and who's this?" Regan asked after he placed her on her feet. The tall fellow ginger had a spark of jealousy in those green eyes.

"Bill Regan, this is my, uh, friend, Jim Frayne. He's the great-nephew of old Mr. Frayne from Ten Acres. Jim, this is Bill Regan, groom most excellent. He's also Dan's uncle. Regan, Dan is dating Jim's sister."

The two men shook hands and murmured pleasantries. "I have Lady all saddled up for you, Jim. I wasn't sure how experienced you are with horses. As for Jupiter, young lady, he's out in the paddock. Sulking this morning."

Trixie grinned. She tossed Jim an apple. "I'll get him."

Regan turned to Jim. "I think she could power Sleepyside with all that energy. Want to see something really special?"

"Sure."

"Follow me."

He led Jim to the fence. Over at the far end of the paddock was a large black quarter horse. "Watch this."

Trixie already clambered over the fence, but Jupiter was playing hard to get. She lifted her fingers to her lips and whistled shrilly, something that almost sounded like the call of a bobwhite. The horse turned his head, gave her a dark look, and took off full speed toward her.

Jim tensed next to Regan, but the other man said, "Watch."

The horse stopped a foot from the laughing girl and tossed his mane. She had the apple behind her back. Jim watched in amazement as Jupiter lowered his head and nudged Trixie gently. The horse was powerful enough to send her flying, but he didn't. They couldn't hear what she was saying, but they could see Jupiter's ears flicking.

She finally gave him his apple and he plucked it from her outstretched palm, accepting her peace offering. He backed up a few steps, spinning around and walking toward the railing on the far side of the paddock. He turned to see if she was following.

Of course, she was.

Jupiter waited until she climbed the fence and slipped onto his back. No saddle, no stirrups, no nothing. Just her and Jupiter. She embraced his neck, whispering something to him, and he began to walk. Then trot. Then gallop.

Trixie rode like she was a part of the horse. His mane and tail were flying, and her hair was streaming back like a golden flag. Jupiter made one round of the large paddock, galloping to the far end.

It was then he let go, allowing his enormous lungs and heart free rein. "He's going for the fence," Jim gasped.

"Again," Regan said wryly.

Jim held his breath hoping that the horse wouldn't stop short, causing Trixie to sail over the horse's head. He needn't have worried. With a mighty heave, the woman and horse took the tall fence in perfect harmony.

It was breathtaking.

Trixie guided Jupe over to the two men, but not too close. She could still feel the quivering muscles straining beneath her. "He's a little excited." She patted his arched neck. "Come on, Jupe, let's get you saddled up.

"I never knew anyone who could ride like that." Jim's eyes glowed with admiration.

"He's only like that with her. His papers may say he belongs to Matt Wheeler, but his heart belongs to her and hers to him." Regan eyed the young man. "Make sure you don't break it." With those words, he sauntered away.

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The estate and adjoining nature preserve contained extensive, well-marked trails. "Let's ride to the Bluffs," Trixie turned to Jim.

"You're the boss."

They rode on, sometimes in silence, sometimes with either one pointing out an animal or bird. Trixie noted Jim's ease on the horse and his expert handling of the gentle mare. "We're almost there," she called back to him. Jupiter always had to be in front.

They broke out of the canopy into a meadow, and Trixie dismounted, letting the reins hang. "You don't have to tie her off. They're trained to stay nearby."

Trixie and Jim walked over to the cliff, but not close to the edge. "It's kind of crumbly. Mr. Wheeler is eventually going to put up a fence, but there are zoning issues and getting all the heavy equipment here." She glanced down at the Hudson, sparkling in the autumn sun. "It's so gorgeous."

"Yes. Beautiful." But he was looking at her, with her wind-blown hair, rosy cheeks, and eyes that rivaled the most glittering of sapphires. She turned to him and saw something in his eyes, something that stirred the most elemental of feelings deep within her. He moved closer, tugging again on what he was beginning to think of as his curl.

This time, there were no interruptions. Only him and her and the air shimmering between them. Jim lowered his head to hers, slowly, his eyes on those lips that haunted his dreams ever since that day when she flipped him on his butt, in more ways than one.

Trixie lifted her mouth to his, wanting this so badly her body was trembling with need. The first brush of lips was just that, a mere teasing touch. It wasn't enough.

It would _never_ be enough.

It was many, many kisses later, when they finally broke, breathless. "Come back with me, Trixie. Stay with me." Jim's voice was raspy, hoarse with need and his body was screaming for release.

She lifted a hand to touch his cheek. "I can't, Jim. It's… it's too soon. And I've never been with anyone before. Ever." Her rosy cheeks grew even rosier.

He was stunned. Absolutely stunned. This beautiful girl with the killer body… "What's wrong with the men in Sleepyside? Something in the water?"

"I don't think so. My parents have four kids and the Lynches have five," she giggled. She glanced at her watch. "We need to get back in time to groom the horses and grab lunch."

The horses were enjoying the few mouthfuls of grass that were still edible. The couple remounted and began the trek home. "What's the weirdest place you ever had to deliver a pizza?" Jim needed to get his mind off that pretty bottom.

"Oh, gleeps, there have been a few. One time I delivered to another pizzeria. I had to make sure no-one saw me and sneak into the side alley."

"Seriously?"

"Yup. Another time I delivered a pie to a couple stuck in a traffic jam for two hours. But I guess the strangest place was to a funeral home."

"A funeral home?"

"Yeah. Apparently the decedent was a big fan of our pie. I had to deliver one with the works and the widow put it in the casket. She wanted him to have something to eat."

Jim hooted with laughter. "Eternity with a Bella Luna pie! I can think of worse things."

They talked and talked, learning about each other as the groomed the horses. By the time they had lunch with Trixie's parents, they were both glowing with health and absolutely starving.

"These hamburgers are delicious, Mrs. Belden."

"Thank you, Jim. Although I'm sure my kids might think Wimpy's are better."

"Wimpy's?"

"Restaurant in town. Wimpy's are good, but not like this, Moms. Can I help you clear up?"

"Paper plates and plastic forks? Not too much clearing. I know you have to get back, honey."

"Are you sure, Moms?"

"I have Daddy for slave labor, now," Helen giggled, sounding remarkably similar to her daughter.

"Thank you for everything, Mr. and Mrs. Belden," Jim said as they were leaving. "The food, the company, and the conversation were all delicious. I'll get the car started, Trix." He knew she wanted a few private minutes with her folks.

Moms hugged her tight. "I like him. He's sweet and has nice manners."

"I like him too, Moms. He… he might be real important to me one day."

"Give it time, Trixie."

"I will." She hugged her Daddy next. "Love you, Daddy."

"Love you right back, Princess. And your young man might just be worthy of you."

Her eyes were shining as she looked at her beloved father. "Thanks, Daddy. That means a lot." She climbed in the car with Jim and waved until they turned onto Glen Road.

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They were both busy people. Jim was attending law school and working part-time for the EPA. Trixie was in her senior year, studying for the LSATs and working when she could. There were family and friends, homework, school, and job obligations.

They got together whenever they could, even if it meant Jim ordering a pizza for delivery and driving her home. She met his family and he met her friends and brothers. All that autumn, while the temperatures grew colder and the tree branches became lace in the cold, night sky, they grew closer.

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Sally Wellington stared at herself in the mirror. Damn, she looked good. Dolce and Gabbana gown, Jimmy Choos, and jewels by Harry Winston. James Winthrop Frayne II was going to be at the Mayflower Ball. It didn't matter if he brought a date or not. She was going to knock him right out of his socks.

Juliana was non-committal when Sally pressed her for intel regarding her handsome brother. He was busy, she said, with law school, his job, and other things. Sally wondered just what those _other_ things were, and if they were female.

However, she never saw his picture in the tabs and there was never a hint in any of the gossip columns about him hooking up with another socialite. Maybe he was just busy, but she was going to make sure Mr. Frayne made some time for her.

Not, of course, that she spent her nights pining for him. Far from it. Her picture graced the gossip columns frequently, and every man she dated was heralded as her new love. It worked for Kate Middleton, didn't it?

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Trixie stared at herself in the cheval mirror in her bedroom in Manhattan. Honey and Diana assured her she looked devastatingly sexy and she was going to make Jim absolutely wild. A ball! She didn't belong at a ball! She was plain old Trixie Belden from a sleepy little village upstate, not some rich jet-setter.

Would all those women know she bought her gown off the internet for $69.00? It didn't look it. It was long, black stretch velvet that hugged her curves but wasn't blatant. The dress had long sleeves and a high neckline. There were black and gold lace inserts at the hip and when Trixie turned around… oh, my.

The sleeves were inset as if they were a bolero jacket, and the gold and black lace bared her back to the waist. Strappy gold sandals purchased at Payless completed her outfit of fewer than one hundred dollars. Her curls were piled on her head, courtesy of Di, and small diamond earrings, courtesy of Honey, sparkled on her ears.

Her eyes seemed huge as thickly fringed with a judicious amount of mascara, and a simple swipe of lip gloss made her mouth inviting and luscious.

All Trixie saw was the faint dusting of freckles on her nose as she lamented her lack of stature and wished for the wispy figures of her best friends.

Jim was running a little late, so the others went on ahead. Sergio allowed him upstairs, announcing him first. Trixie pressed a hand to her stomach, suddenly full of butterflies. It was seconds later, it seemed, it seemed, when he rang the bell.

Jim shifted from one foot to another as he waited for her to answer the door. This was their first really public date. The place would be swarming with the paparazzi, and he had no doubt their picture would end up in some gossip column somewhere.

Could she take it? Flashbulbs in the face, idiots shouting stupid questions?

And then she opened the door.

His mind went completely blank. She was the most beautiful thing he ever saw. The black against her soft, porcelain skin. Her neck exposed for his nibbles. The sexy little lace insets dipping down at her hips. The way the dress clung to her, modest yet screaming sex. A sweet, sharp, hard longing speared through him.

Trixie thought he was gorgeous in his designer tux. Tall and handsome, the black tux made his red hair blaze. David Beckham had nothing on his athletic body! He was staring at her, his brilliant green eyes piercing and hot, their warmth making her heat up straight from her core.

"J-Jim?" Maybe she wasn't dressed right.

Her little stutter broke the sensual spell. "You're so beautiful, Trixie. You look marvelous."

"You look pretty darn handsome yourself. Just let me get my wrap and clutch." When he saw what there was to the back of her dress, the black lace shot with discreet gold threads, his eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head. How the hell was he supposed to keep his hands off her when she was wearing something like _that?_

He was on her in a flash, tipping up her face to meet his as he ravished her neck and finally, those plump, delectable lips. His hand splayed across her back, the feeling of the lace and her almost bare skin making him wild.

"You taste like sin," he told her, his voice rough with need. "Pure wickedness, and God, I want you so much."

"We… we're going to be late," Trixie sounded nothing like herself. Her voice was breathy, raspy and filled with feminine secrets.

Jim reluctantly let her go and helped her on with the black, faux fur capelet Honey lent her. She grabbed a tiny gold purse from a table and smiled brightly, even as she was quaking with need and not a little trepidation at what surprises the ball might hold.

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It all became one big blur after the limo pulled up in front of the Plaza. Jim got out first, but before he did, he prepared her for what was to come. "There will be a lot of people and paparazzi behind the ropes, only because there are celebrities that attend these events. We might get asked to stop for pictures, and they might ask who designed your gown."

"But Jim, I just got it off the internet for $69.00! No big designer or anything."

"So? Just tell them it was off-the-rack." He was amazed at his special girl. She looked like she was dressed by the best.

Jim extended his hand and helped her out, and she was nearly blinded by the barrage of flashes. She clutched his hand as they made their way up the red carpet and inside, where several television crews were waiting.

Trixie now knew why Brian and Mart disliked these events. "Take her wrap, Jim," somebody called.

He bent down and whispered, "Smile, baby, 'cause you're the prettiest girl here."

At his sincere words, she did smile, that grin she reserved just for him. It lit up her face and people sighed when they saw the way the two gazed at each other. "Who is this lovely lady with you, Jim?" one of the reporters inquired.

"She's my special girl."

"Who designed your dress, Special Girl?" someone else shouted.

"Um, the dress is from the internet and my shoes are from Payless." Her admission charmed the jaded paparazzi as Jim led her inside the Grand Ballroom.

He whisked two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter, presenting one to her with a flourish. The rest of the night was spent meeting people, talking to them and dancing; enjoying tiny crudities and the free-flowing, delicious bubbly.

Sally Wellington was there, and she heard the murmurs in the crowd. Jim Frayne was there with a lovely girl. A woman who had him so entranced, he couldn't take his eyes off her. She saw him across the ballroom, standing alone, looking so yummy she placed a hand over her aching abdomen. Maybe she should…

A tall, dark man brought Trixie back to Jim. Who was that again? Oh, Brian somebody or another. He was a medical student dating Honey Wheeler. Sally's eyes followed Jim and the woman as they moved among the guests, finally stopping behind a large floral decoration.

It was there Jim gathered the curly blonde in his arms, kissing a line along her jaw that ended in a passionate kiss on her full lips. Jim, the man who didn't believe in PDAs, who was in fact, sometimes rather chilly, was giving in to his innate sensual nature.

With _her._

Somebody tapped Sally's hand. "Hi, Sally, I don't know if you remember me." She looked up into a handsome face. "We met at that dude ranch in Arizona. Pete Kimball."

"Oh yes, I remember." She smiled up at him, giving up her hopes and dreams regarding the unavailable Jim Frayne. She always did like blondes better.

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Trixie was speaking with Winthrop Frayne as Jim went to grab another couple of drinks for them. "You look very pretty, Trixie."

"Thank you, Mr. Frayne. The ball is lovely. Have you and Mrs. Frayne attended every year?"

Jim glanced across the room at them, his father and her. His parents really liked the down-to-earth, ambitious young woman who worked hard for her dreams. He watched as Trixie smiled up at his father and Jim's fingers tightened on the delicate stems of the flutes.

He felt as if his whole world narrowed to one hard thump of his heart. The room and its glittering occupants melted away and there was only her, and the realization his life was about to change forever.

He was in love with her. Everything about her; her ambition; her intelligence; her athletic abilities. The way she sat on a horse much too big for those delicate hands to control. The way she jumped into a pile of leaves and came up with them in her hair, tiny slivers on her eyelashes. Those killer curves he knew lurked under her clothes, the way she kissed him and moved against him.

Jim hadn't made love with her yet. He wanted to, more than life itself, but he wanted to wait until their lives weren't so busy. When they could take a few days away from the City; maybe a bed and breakfast in Connecticut, Vermont, or Maine.

He wanted to take days to explore every delectable inch of her, and to induct her into the mysteries of physical love. Standing there, watching her, he had the feeling she would be teaching him, not the other way around.

Jim smiled at his father as he approached them, but turned his intense green eyes on Trixie. "Miss me, baby?"

"Oh, I had your dad to keep me company," she teased. "He's as handsome and charming as you are."

"Oh, no! Should I be jealous?"

Trixie looked up into his eyes, alight with an intensity she never before noticed. Every molecule in her body was flooded with a desire so fierce, it had to be shining out of her eyes. "No. Not ever, of anyone."

"Dad, can you hold these?" He didn't wait for his father to agree. He pressed the flutes into his father's hands and swept Trixie into his hands for a slow, sensual dance.

Katie Frayne approached her husband. "Developing a drinking problem, dear?" She arched a delicate brow, noticing the two glasses.

He gallantly passed her one. "She's caught him."

"Who caught who?" Katie sipped the drink, loving the bubbles teasing her nose.

"Trixie. Caught Jim." He nodded to the couple, so close not even an atom could squeeze between them. "Dancing. The vertical expression of a horizontal desire."

"I like her. She's good for him."

"Even as a daughter-in-law?"

"Even then. I better get to planning."

"Planning what?"

"The guest list, Win."

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The limo waited while he walked Trixie to her apartment. It was safer. Safer for him and safer for her. Because he knew he had to get back downstairs and not remove the key from her hand and lead her into her bedroom.

Some things were worth waiting for, even as his body reminded him of its needs. Before he knew it, he had her pressed against the door while his lips ravished hers. Soft, so soft and luscious, it was the kiss that sealed the deal for him.

He left her standing dazed in the open doorway, as unfulfilled as he was.

The next day, the gossip columns and the tabloid television shows were rife with pictures of the woman the press dubbed The $69 Cinderella. They gleefully pointed out the stars in designer dresses costing a hundred time more than the dress Cindy wore, yet she shone as bright as any of them.

Trixie was mortified, but it was a seven days' wonder. She and Jim were much too busy to attend glittering charity events or the latest hotspot. The holidays were coming, and with it, more pressure in school, more pizzas to delivered to stressed-out shoppers and the glut of out-of-towners in to do some shopping.

Thanksgiving was… well, it was nice. Helen had her usual open house and Trixie and the rest of the Beldens pitched in, giving thanks when the day was over. Jim wasn't there, however. His family was spending time with Uncle James and Aunt Nell in Arizona; it was decided eons ago.

In a houseful of people, Trixie learned just how lonely she could be.

Jim stared up at the desert sky in Arizona, feeling the same and wishing he were back in New York.

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Christmas in the City was magic. There was no other way to describe it. People were nicer, even as they hurried on their rounds. The stores were jammed, hotels full, and streets sparkled with Christmas lights. The majestic tree at Rockefeller Center presided over the City with its multicolored illumination and trumpeting angels.

It was crazy, too, for the residents. Everyone had somewhere to be, someone to shop for and no time to make dinner. Trixie was picking up a few extra shifts in addition to studying hard for finals. And then, it was December 23rd.

What a week it had been. She actually thought she aced her finals, saw Jim briefly and bought gifts for family and friends. Nothing expensive, but gifts from her heart. Jim was the hardest of all. What do you give a guy who has the means to buy anything he desired?

She had a week of weird deliveries, too. Not put-the-pizza-in-a-casket weird, but not quite usual, either. Baked ziti for two to the Rockefeller Center skating rink. Then there was the delivery to the dorm to Emma. When she pressed the buzzer and identified herself, she asked for Emma. A deep voice informed her that was Emma, and she'd be right down.

Emma was a dude with a beard wearing a sequined dress and yellow pumps. Had a nice manicure, too.

And now, this final one before going home for the holiday. A delivery to the corner of Fifth Avenue and East 34th. On the corner. Not to a building or business, but on the _corner._

People were weird.

Trixie arrived at the appointed time and glanced around. There were last-minute shoppers, tourists gawking at the skyscrapers, and the general bustle of New York.

But no-one looking as if they were waiting for a pizza delivery.

It wasn't a hoax because the pizza was paid in advance. Trixie pulled off her helmet, trying to read the crowd. _Huh._

The light changed to green, and some jackass pulled right in front of her, nearly sideswiping her and her bike. The man got out and her heart began to hammer in her chest.

The car was a Porsche with a slight dent in the passenger door. One she'd put there quite a while ago. And the man getting out of the car had distinctive red hair.

Jim.

He came right up in front of her, his brilliant green eyes blazing. "You freaking dented my car, kid."

Trixie stared up at him. "You should be happy that my bike wasn't damaged. Or me," she sniffed out her line, tossing those curls and making them bounce.

"Ah, but _you_ damaged _me_. Quite seriously, too. Right here." Jim pointed to his heart. A crowd was gathering on the sidewalk, listening to the two, wondering what was going to happen next.

Jim was on the dirty asphalt again, this time not on his rear end because she tossed him there. She was still the cause of him being there once more, though. He was down on one knee. He took her slack hand in his as her eyes rounded in stunned surprise.

"I love you, Trixie. I love everything about you. Please say you'll marry me, we'll have a family and grow old together. Marry me, pizza girl." He pulled a small jeweler's box from his pocket, flicked it open to reveal a gorgeous diamond solitaire with two brilliant sapphires on either side. "This was my grandmother's ring. Say you'll wear it and be mine."

Trixie's enormous blue eyes darkened with pleasure and filled with tears. "Of course, I'll marry you, Jim. Even if you are a bad driver," she sniffled. "I love you." He slid the ring on her finger, looked into her eyes and kissed her as the crowd applauded and took videos of the lovely, quintessentially New York moment.

They broke the kiss after a moment. "What about the pizza?" she laughed. She felt free, happy and very loved.

"Well… everyone is waiting for us back at Bella Luna. Honey, Di, your brothers, our parents, and friends. My sister and Dan. Come on, baby. We have lots to celebrate." Jim placed the bike on the rack he moved over onto the Porsche.

"You must _really_ love me. A bike rack on the Porsche!" she teased.

"Never doubt it for a minute." He swept her up into his arms again for a kiss, and they drove away to the cheering of the bystanders.

They stepped into the warmth of the pizzeria, filled to the brim with everyone they loved. Jim smiled at all of them. "Here is _my_ Christmas Delivery!" was all he got out before they were absorbed into the group.

And they lived happily ever after…

Even if, a year later, they did have a Christmas Delivery of their own.

And it wasn't a pizza.


End file.
